


Can you see me?

by Sm3llyCheese



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Poor John, Post Reichenbach, angsty, not sure, poor sherlock!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 18:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/995100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sm3llyCheese/pseuds/Sm3llyCheese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Reichenbach, Sherlock returns home to find John ignoring him, what's going on?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can you see me?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction I've ever posted or shown to anyone, so please be kind :)

Sherlock expected many things upon his return to John’s side of which: anger, depression, happiness.  
What he didn’t expect was normalcy.  
When he had tentatively walked into the living room of 221b three years, almost to the day, after his “fall” and quietly said: “Hello, John.” John had barely looked up from his seat in the worn armchair he loved so dearly to nod at him, then went back to reading his newspaper, absently patting Billy as he read. Surprised, Sherlock didn't quite know what to do. Had John been expecting him? No, nothing pointed to the doctor getting ready for his return, not even standing to punch him in the face, as he had calculated John would. No, John was behaving oddly.  
Sherlock shifted on his feet, uncertain and uneasy, was this John’s way of dealing with his return?  
As if walking on eggshells, Sherlock walked over to his chair and sat in it, sitting tensely on the edge. When nothing was said, he just accepted that that was how it was going to be. Generally he shouldn’t have been bothered by the silence, he had been ignored so often in the past that he had sort of gotten used to it and even tended to do it himself when he was thinking about his old cases, but this was somehow… off.  
He relaxed a bit into the chair, knowing that it was going to be a tense couple of days.

*

Days passed and still John didn’t seem to care that he was back. They returned to their old routine, but without ever leaving the flat.  
John would make breakfast, eat, read the newspaper, stare at his open blog with his fingers hovering over the keys, but in the end never type anything and instead slam the lid in a rage. After another while of silence he would start to pace around the apartment, limping without his cane. If Sherlock suggested to leave the apartment John would yell and chuck something. After a lamp came dangerously close to his head, Sherlock removed anything dangerous and placed it in his bedroom whilst John slept.  
The evenings were passed in front of crap telly and John even cracked a small smile when Sherlock started to talk to the television, but that soon passed to be replaced with a sad frown. Smiles were rare and Sherlock found himself wondering just what happened to John in his absence. He had obviously lost a lot of weight, he had big bags under his eyes and his nightmares were back. That first night Sherlock had found himself in his doctor’s bedroom, watching in despair as his friend twisted in fear and pain on his bed, shouting out for mercy. Soon Sherlock started sitting in a chair next to the bed and soothingly talking to John as his mother had done to him in his infant years, then this continued as Sherlock realized just how much of a positive reaction it got and after a few nights, Sherlock found himself dozing in his armchair after spending hours awake at John’s bedside, stroking his hand and calming him the only way he knew how.

It was after about two weeks of almost complete silence that there was a knock on the door, the first sign of life outside the flat in ages.  
John dragged his eyes up and seemed to contemplate ignoring it. After a long moment he struggled to his feet, pulling himself onto his cane, and hobbled over to the door, hand hovering over the doorknob. With a sigh he pulled it open, eyeing Lestrade and Sally suspiciously. Without hesitating they walked past him into the living room.  
“You know John, you should – “ Lestrade’s voice cut out with a strangled cough as he finally took in Sherlock sitting in his chair.  
“Sherlock?!” he shouted, confused. “What- When- Huh?” he settled for making a confused sound as Sally leaned heavily on the counter, legs seemingly turning to jelly.  
John’s head had snapped round as soon as he heard Lestrade sputter. He now grabbed Lestrade’s shoulders and stared right into his eyes, hands shaking and voice trembling.  
“You can see him too?!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)
> 
> This was inspired, kind of, by this (http://burn-myheart-out.tumblr.com/post/63369801103/squeegeepony-thescienceofjohnlock).
> 
> Please leave a review, constuctive criticism is appreciated!


End file.
